


September 18th

by captain_americano



Series: Aftermath [1]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Anniversaries, Big surprise, Flirting, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Movie Night, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Past Rape/Non-con, Pre-Relationship, Rape Recovery, Star Wars - Freeform, Tacos, Tacos are used as a metaphor for consent, Texting conversation is based on me and Jamie being gay, but not between the main pairing, it’s wade, obv, of course there’s mexican food
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-19 22:35:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20664911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captain_americano/pseuds/captain_americano
Summary: [Taco emoji][burrito emoji]You know, September 19th two years ago was the first time we watched Star Wars together?It’s almost Star Wars season [star emoji]Some anniversaries are good — like Star Wars. Some aren’t so good.





	September 18th

**Author's Note:**

> Is this rubbish? This is probably rubbish. But it’s also based on a Very Real conversation I had earlier tonight, along with a Very Real trigger, and a Very Real, Very Bad Moment for me. Double check the tags and be safe, kids.
> 
> Also, sorry for the weird spacing. Formatting is hard on the mobile site.
> 
> I don’t think this warrants a Rape/Non-Con warning, but if you disagree let me know and I’ll bump it up.

**[Spider emoji][web emoji]**

_It has been_

_Four (4) days_

_And I still have the banana splits song stuck in my head_

_I wanna kms,_ Peter texted Wade, apropos of nothing, way too late at night to be texting anyone. Luckily, Wade wasn’t just anyone.

**[Taco emoji][burrito emoji]**

_I have hostiles on the hill stuck in my head_

_So I’m in a pretty good place_

Peter stifled a laugh at Wade’s response, and started humming the BLR song, hoping it would replace the incessant ‘_Tra la la_’s.

**[Taco emoji][burrito emoji]**

_You know, September 19th two years ago was the first time we watched Star Wars together?_

_It’s almost Star Wars season [star emoji]_

Peter frowned, searching his memory. He thought it was closer to Christmas when Wade had broken into his apartment at four in the afternoon, arms full of Taco Bell and the Star Wars box set. He remembered the circumstances well (and fondly, to be honest), but not the time of year.

**[Spider emoji][web emoji]**

_How do you remember that?_

**[Taco emoji][burrito emoji]**

_Who knows? Maybe I have a great memory? Maybe I sensed it in the force or maybe I wrote it in a note cause I’m weird?_

Peter felt a jolt in his chest and his face grew warm. That was — unbearably sweet.

**[Spider emoji][web emoji]**

_Oh Wade, I love that_

His response seemed inadequate, compared to how Wade’s message made him feel. They’d been dancing around each other for literal years at this stage, never getting too close, always pulling away just before anything happened. Peter wasn’t sure why neither of them seemed ready to jump in, but he was growing tired of hiding his feelings, especially when Wade defied all logic and all preconceived notions, and said something like that.

**[Taco emoji][burrito emoji]**

_I have a terrible memory. I had to write it down. Couldn’t forget something that huge_

Peter beamed at his phone as he started typing his reply.

**[Spider emoji][web emoji]**

_Want to come over this weekend and we can hole up on the couch and watch all the movies?_

**[Taco emoji][burrito emoji]**

_2 year Star Wars anniversary!_

_We can watch all 8 thousand movies_

**[Spider emoji][web emoji]**

_God, yes, I’ve been wanting to marathon them for ages, but it just feels weird watching them without you, now._

**[Taco emoji][burrito emoji]**

_I know! When I’m all alone there’s no one to laugh at my jokes!_

_Well_

_Stare at me_

_While I wait for a reaction_

**[Spider emoji][web emoji]**

_SORRY FOR NOT IMMEDIATELY UNDERSTANDING YOUR LANDO PUNS_

**[Taco emoji][burrito emoji]**

_Classic #spideypoolstarwars moments_

**[Spider emoji][web emoji]**

_See you Saturday, ‘Pool._

Peter plugged his phone in to charge and turned off his bedside lamp, snuggling under the covers and wondering why (aside from Star Wars) the 19th of September was a significant date for him.

* * *

It hit him half an hour before Wade was due to show up. His stomach dropped, his chest tightened, and his hands started shaking.

September 19th wasn’t the significant date — it was the 18th. Homecoming, five years ago. It had been five whole years since…

God, and he’d thought his homecoming with the Vulture was bad. After his second homecoming went to shit, he stopped going to school dances altogether. In fact, after his second homecoming, he didn’t leave the house for weeks.

_Five years,_ Peter huffed inwardly, and found himself curled up sideways on the couch, staring at his blank TV screen. Nowadays, he barely even thought of that night. In fact, it never crossed his mind until something specifically triggered the memory. It was always bad around the anniversary, though.

Peter lay on the couch, staring at the TV, his ears ringing for an unknown amount of time. It wasn’t until he felt a cold shiver that he sat up, and noticed Wade seated on the end of the couch, watching him silently.

Peter blinked.

Wade’s mask blinked back.

“Um,” Peter said dumbly. “How long —?”

“‘Bout an hour,” Wade said, his tone carefully nonchalant. “That was some serious disassociation, if I do say so myself, baby boy.”

“Yeah,” Peter rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands, “yeah, I’m getting that. I didn’t even hear you come in.”

“Want some cold tacos?” Wade asked, holding the grease-stained bag out to Peter, and that fucking did it.

“I —” Peter choked, an embarrassing sob escaping him as his eyes watered and he curled in on himself.

“That’s okay! You don’t have to eat it! I’ll just chuck them out and buy you some new ones! Unless you don’t want tacos at all? That’s okay, too, you don’t have to eat Mexican if you don’t want!” Wade said concernedly, and Peter cried harder, tucking his face behind his knees.

“You — you’re giving me a choice!” Peter sniffed, turning to face Wade as tears rolled down his cheeks. “I — I don’t have to eat your t-tacos?”

“No,” Wade said hesitantly. “I didn’t really expect you to say yes, but I thought I’d offer you anyway, and then you said no, so no harm no foul, right, Spides?”

“A-and you’re not going to keep trying to feed me the same tacos when — when I’ve already said I don’t want them,” Peter said quietly, more to himself than Wade, but Wade answered anyway.

“No, you made it pretty clear you don’t want my tacos, and I can respect that. They’re probably all gross and soggy,” Wade shrugged, tossing the bag towards the bin. It hit the wall with a sad thud and dropped to the floor, it’s contents littering Peter’s kitchen. “Can — is it okay if I move a bit closer to you Petey?”

The way Wade asked, so sincere and concerned and genuine made Peter hesitantly nod his head. Wade scooted along the couch so he was close enough that Peter could feel his warmth, without actually touching him.

“This isn’t really about tacos, is it?” Wade asked quietly, and Peter silently shook his head. “Can I give you a hug or is touching a no — oof!” Wade grunted as Peter threw himself at him, wrapping his arms around Wade’s broad chest, and tucking his face in his neck.

“‘M sorry,” Peter mumbled, feeling exhausted.

“Don’t apologise,” Wade said immediately, his voice firm, but his hand gentle as it carded through Peter’s hair. “Do you want to talk about it? I can’t promise I won’t get stabby.”

Peter snorted softly, hiding his face in Wade’s shoulder.

“It was after homecoming in my junior year… my boyfriend and I had, y’know, a couple of times before, but I didn’t really enjoy it, didn’t really like him… I always felt — felt kinda pressured? And I — I didn’t even want to go back to his place but he — he said he was worried about me and he didn’t want me t-to be alone, that I should just go to his place and we wouldn’t have to do anything — we’d just go to sleep — he _promised,”_ Peter rambled around the lump in his throat as fresh, warm tears fell from his eyes.

“I k-kept saying no, I kept saying I didn’t want to, but I was so scared he’d get angry, so scared he’d break up with me, even though I didn’t really like him. I was scared that he’d figure out about Spider-Man or — or, I don’t know, out me or something, and I just kept saying no and he just kept pushing until I couldn’t say no anymore and I — I —” Peter whined, clutching at Wade, who held him tightly.

“Fuck, Peter, I’m so sorry,” Wade whispered.

“S’not — it’s not y-your fault, it’s mine, I should — should’ve kept saying no, I should’ve just left, or known not to go there in the first place, it’s all my fault that every year on this day I r-remember the shit I got myself into and c-couldn’t get myself out of and —”

“Peter,” Wade interrupted firmly, gently cupping Peter’s jaw and tipping his head back to look blearily up at him. “It. Is. Not. Your. Fault. You did nothing wrong. You said no, you didn’t want it. That guy, that microscopic scab of dick cheese — he’s the one at fault. He’s the shit-swizzling fuck-stick that should be feeling miserable for being an absolutely Trumpian piece of dustbin juice.”

Peter couldn’t think of anything to say to that, so he simply rested his head on Wade’s shoulder, and Wade went back to stroking his hair.

“Sorry for ruining our Star Wars anniversary,” Peter said softly after an indeterminable amount of time.

“You didn’t ruin anything, baby,” Wade replied gently. “Thank you for trusting me.”

Peter blinked harshly as he felt his tears welling up again, but he held them back.

“Want to watch The Phantom Menace?” Peter asked, still feeling a little overwhelmed but finally letting go of Wade and settling down on his side of the couch.

“Sure, I guess we could definitely use the delightful comic relief that is Jar Jar Binks, now more than ever,” Wade said cheerfully, and Peter snorted.

“Okay, you set up the movie, I’ll order some pizza,” Peter said, grabbing his phone off the coffee table and opening the ordering app. He half-watched as Wade went about loading the movie, and when Wade settled back on the couch next to him, Peter scooted close and took Wade’s gloved hand. “Thank you, Wade.”

“Anytime, Petey,” Wade said brightly, his smile visible though his mask. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was weirdly cathartic.
> 
> Happy Anniversary, Daniel. 18/9/2014. You probably don’t remember my name, or the date, or me saying no, but I remember everything.
> 
> Also I wanna write a sequel to this with fluff and an actual get together, so I have put this in a series. Hit those subscribe and kudos buttons!


End file.
